


Nullified Anarchy

by lightsaroundyourvanity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsaroundyourvanity/pseuds/lightsaroundyourvanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abaddon is too deeply scary of a creature to pout, but Meg swears she's coming close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nullified Anarchy

“Do you ever miss him?”  
  
Meg and Abaddon lie on the low, wide bed, Meg’s head on Abaddon’s chest as Abaddon combs her fingers through the younger demon’s hair. It’s a lazy, peaceful moment that few believe could exist in Hell, but there it is.  
  
“Miss who?”  
  
Meg trails her hand down Abaddon’s side, bare skin like silk, pale and unscarred. “Lucifer,” she murmurs, with the tiniest bit of hesitation. “Do you ever miss Lucifer?”  
  
Abaddon’s fingertips still in Meg’s hair and she frowns. “Why? He thought we were scum. Worse than humans, in our way.”  
  
“I don’t know.” Meg shifts uncomfortably until she can prop herself up on her elbow and gauge Abaddon’s face. Her expression is shuttered, and Meg can’t tell if she’s contemplative or bad tempered right now. Something about there even being a moment of indecision there pisses Meg off. I mean, when somebody asks you if you miss your banished god you know what you say? Yes. You say yes. And so maybe that’s why she snaps, “Because he created us? Because he was everything to me –to you, too, lady knight– for thousands of years and now he’s just _gone_. Everything we were supposed to live for is gone. He was our big cheese.”  
  
“Now I’m the big cheese.” Abaddon’s eyes crackle. Definitely bad tempered.   
  
Meg lets out a gusty sigh. “I wasn’t trying to compare,” she says, not bothering to conceal her exasperation. Abaddon was too sensitive at the best of times, and at the worst of times. Basically at any given time. It made for interesting day-to-day operations in the field as a colleague, but for some truly exhausting mental gymnastics when sharing her bed. “I was just making conversation,” Meg grumbles.  
  
“Make better conversation,” Abaddon retorts. “Something that doesn’t question my already unstable throne.”  
  
“Oh, come _on_ ,” Meg groans. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”  
  
“No, I didn’t.” Abaddon is too deeply scary of a creature to pout, but Meg swears she comes close just then.  
  
“Shut up,” says Meg, half resentful, half teasing. “Yes you did.”  
  
“ _Don’t_ tell me to shut up.”  
  
Maybe it’s time for a new tactic. Meg reaches for Abaddon, brushes her thumb across her cheek. Abaddon looks sullen, but she doesn’t pull away. “Shut up,” Meg says again, softly this time, and then she surges towards Abaddon and kisses her.  
  
Abaddon lets Meg press their lips together for one second, two, three, before she breaks away and her mouth twists into a scowl. “You try to fuck your way out of every problem.” Her words are harsh.  
  
“Is it working?” Meg asks hopefully. She knows that Abaddon is trying to pick a fight, but she’s really not angling for a spat right now. She raises an eyebrow at Abaddon.  
  
Abaddon’s scowl darkens. “No.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Meg presses close to Abaddon and kisses the corner of her mouth, the curve of her jaw. Abaddon stiffens against her and shoves Meg away, and Meg has to grip the edge of the mattress to keep from toppling onto the floor. “What the fuck,” Meg snaps, startled.  
  
“I said no,” says Abaddon. “In fact, you should probably hit the road, really. I’m bored of you.”  
  
It stings, even though Meg knows that Abaddon is only saying it to be a bitch, and she sits up with an indignant, “Seriously?”  
  
Abaddon doesn’t look at Meg. “Sure. Go moon over Lucifer’s crypts if you’re so hung up on a dweeby ex-cloud hopper.”  
  
“Oh, good _grief_.” Meg has to resist the urge to clutch at her hair. “I swear I didn’t mean anything like that. You’re a great queen. I love you as queen. Four more years and all that jazz. It’s just…”  
  
Abaddon smiles tightly, still staring at the ceiling instead of Meg. “But who could compare to a god,” she finishes.  
  
Meg bites her lip. She’s not used to seeing Abaddon defensive and unsure of her own power. It doesn’t suit her. As a knight, she was cocksure and wild and arrogant and a little bit nuts. Now she’s still nuts, but she’s also vulnerable and overwhelmed, and the three make a volatile combination. Meg can’t say she blames her: from servant to Queen is one hell of a promotion.  
  
“So don’t compare,” Meg suggests. “That was Crowley’s mistake. He tried to replace the irreplaceable. Don’t try to _be_ Lucifer. Try to reign well in his name.”  
  
“I’ll seem weak,” says Abaddon. “If I admit to greater powers, I’ll seem weak, and nobody will serve me.”  
  
“Even the archangels bowed down to God.”  
  
“We are not heaven. That’s sort of the point.” Abaddon looks tired when she says this, but the anger has faded from her eyes, so Meg takes another chance, and lays her hand against Abaddon’s shoulder. When Abaddon doesn’t shove her away, even leans into her touch a bit, Meg pushes her luck even further and slides her hand along the sharp angles of Abaddon’s shoulder blade, traces it down the bones of her spine, and finally lets it come to rest on the small of her back. They’re lying side by side, close enough to breathe each other’s air. Abaddon’s eyes are half lidded, the nervous tension that constantly plagues her these days at war with the gentle comfort that Meg is offering.  
  
“Nobody would ever call you weak,” Meg tells Abaddon. “Nobody would dare.”  
  
Abaddon’s eyes drift all the way shut and she rolls closer to Meg and sighs. Meg smiles. Her hand is still on Abaddon’s back, and she pushes her knee between Abaddon’s legs, slotting them even closer together. “Come on,” Meg says, a huskier note entering her voice. She nuzzles Abaddon behind her ear and then gently nips at the lobe. “Let me show you just how eager your people are to _serve_ you.”  
  
This time, Abaddon doesn’t push Meg away.


End file.
